Normal
by JustPlainJennie
Summary: There is clear chemistry between Sam Yau and Runner Five. What's going on when she's not running? Spoilers for mission 9 and onwards in later chapters


Having a lie-in was a luxury in Abel Township, one Sam Yau was pleased to be allowed at the moment. After the night he had, it was unlikely he would make it through the rest of the day without it. He had been talking into a comms unit into the wee hours of the morning, with the ever dimming hope that he was encouraging a friend back home.

He laid sprawled out on his stomach, sheets pooled around his knees, with his left leg hanging precariously off the bed. The polite knock at the door did nothing to rouse him. A knock came again, more urgent this time, causing him to roll onto his side and shove his pillow against his head. Once more, and louder, the knocker persisted, resulting in a guttural grunt, and eyes glaring at the door. Surely no decent person would be disturbing him. The possibility that he had overslept never crossed his mind.

A familiar voice called through the door, "Sam?" then hesitantly, "You still asleep?" Could he pretend he was? Maybe, but he was just awake enough to think he recognised the voice.

"Just a moment!" he called back. Stumbling out of bed he absently checked that he was decent enough in his t-shirt and pants and pulled open the door.

He was right. There stood the reason he had been up all night, looking at him with too innocent eyes, as if to say, "Oh! You mean to say I woke you up?"

"I couldn't sleep," was what she actually said. Fair enough, it was a common enough occurrence these days. Sam sometimes thought he wouldn't wake up for an actual attack; he was so used to screaming at night. No one talked about it, but everyone knew we had similar nightmares. Memories. Watching loved ones being ripped apart by the living dead. Or worse, being turned, and facing the choice of fleeing, and allowing them to remain in this nightmarish existence, or destroying their remains in often makeshift and brutal ways. Even in his sleep deprived ramblings last night, he couldn't bring himself to speak about that choice.

He had drifted off there for a moment, and Runner 5 was looking expectantly at him. "Do you want to come in?"

"Thanks," she slid past him into his room. Only now did he realise the squalor he and his two roommates were living in. Uni habits die hard. How had he acquired so much...stuff? Wasn't everyone always saying how there wasn't enough to go around? He made a futile attempt to shove some rubbish into the bin behind her back as she looked at the rest of the catastrophe. She turned around and he hid an empty tin behind his back and whistled a short tune, giving him what he thought was a casual air. Her face made clear that she was not convinced.

She closed her eyes and shook her head, "I've just come to thank you."

Sam furrowed his brow, "For last night?" she nodded. "I'm surprised you still want to talk to me after all the nonsense I was spewing. I don't know how much of it you heard, but I wasn't exactly giving you much hope. I called you an undead fiend."

She considered him, "You reminded me why I was running. Why I needed to get back. To get home. If I gave up," she took an unsteady breath, "I wouldn't ever see if things got normal again." She collapsed on to his cot, slumped over her knees with her head hanging.

After chucking the can in his hand into the bin, he took a seat next to her and wondered if this was one of those hugging moments, the ones that end up all teary and emotional. To avoid that sort of terrible situation he simply said, "Any time," gave her a safe pat on the shoulder, and promptly folded his hands in his lap.

Bringing her head up, she eyed him sideways and gave him a wry smile. "You know how you were talking about all the," air-quotes, "'normal' things you miss?"

"Like ice cream rolls!" he licked his lips at the thought.

She paused, "Yeah," waggling her eyebrows at him, "_like _that." Five pursed her lips, "When was the last time you..." She waited for him to catch on.

Wistfully, he answered, "Definitely not since the outbreak. Probably not even months before then."

"I know what you mean. With everything going on it just doesn't seem to take priority anymore."

"It's a priority!" she grinned at him, "It's just, you can't get hold of them anymore. They probably all melted." there was a touch of sadness in his voice.

She stared, unbelieving, at him for a moment until she finally sighed, "Yeah, it's surprising how hard it is to get ahold of some things," he nodded. Resigned, she mumbled, "I'd better get going. Thanks again." Lifting herself off the cot, she tiptoed around the litter he hadn't managed to pick up and made her way out the door.

Sam managed, "Any time," as the door clicked shut. He wondered if he should have hugged her after all.


End file.
